Cryptopsy

Idolize the compromised lifestyle we
Have depicted for ourselves.
Organized to sanctify the resistance
We're consistently served.
Strive, strive, to rectify.
Throughout the ages we have confined
Ourselves within these brainwashed lies
We've broken, through this severed wound, which has been.
Burnt, burnt, and restructured.
Silence, the tyrants, before they condemn us all.
Silence, the tyrants, in order, to sanctify.
Silence, the tyrants,
I will not, be able to swallow,
Your predetermined guilt.
You seem, so hollow, as your senses begin to slip.
Beaten, and paralyzed, tormented, and left to die.
You've been born into this, so there's no use to resist.